


Soulmate

by anastasiapullingteeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon asked for Combeferre/Grantaire soulmate au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill from tumblr.

Grantaire had seen a lot of soulmate’s tattoos on his constant hook ups over the years. He loved to imagine the stories behind them when his partner was fast asleep next him. Did they were close to meet them? What if they already did and didn’t notice? Could someone have found their soulmate and even so slept with someone else? Of course, humans were fucking assholes. Was any of them his own soulmate? What a pathetic way of finding it out, though he doubted anyone had “harder” written on their body.

He even met a few people who didn’t have any words tattooed nowhere, and couldn’t help feel a little bit jealous. He could only think of that poor soul who’d be stuck with him for life. Sometimes he wished they were a horrible person, someone who had done so much bad to the world that deserved to be punished with such a shitty ass soul mate. Some other times, he wished the words written over his ribs suddenly vanished, that whoever held the meaning behind the words wasn’t part of this plane of existence anymore.

But he wasn’t lucky enough. So day after day, he woke up with the words carved on his skin, hurting him even though they were harmless for everyone else. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but secretly he was waiting for that person to find him.

 

***

 

Combeferre was fascinated with the whole soulmate thing. Since he found out about the tattoos, long before he even got his, he read a lot about the subject; when they appeared, the things it could say -questions, answers, names- and the ways it could go away. However, when his own words appeared on his twelfth birthday, he was lost.

He didn’t have a question, nor what could be read as an answer, not even a name; what he’d got was an interjection. Written on black scrambled letters behind his left ear, was the word “Pfft”.

Did “pfft” could even be considered a word? That was something anyone could let out involuntarily. Did it count if the words weren’t directed at him? What if he was just passing by and heard someone saying it? Did that meant that person was his soulmate? No matter how many books he read, not a single one seemed to have the answers.

After years of wondering if he could be able of distinguish between a simple interjection and the words of his soulmate, he gave up on the subject. A romantic way of seeing things said he, in fact, could make out the difference, so he held onto that.

 

***

 

When Grantaire met Enjolras, he wished with all his heart he were his soulmate. He saw him on the Musain a day, ranting about a thing or another over a table at the end of the room, and from that moment forward, he didn’t stop coming to see him.

He was sure the words that really mattered were those directed at him, not any speech he say to the public at large, so when he was ready, approached Enjolras. Maybe he could trick him to say the words on his ribs? Was that possible?

Enjolras just look at him, but didn’t say a word, so Grantaire tried the next day and the day after that, but nothing seemed to work. He went back home after a night, biting back the tears that itched on his eyes to remember the first words Enjolras directed at him: “I’ve no time for this”. He went straight to the shower and washed the damned words with excessive force, until the skin was red and little drops of blood mixed themselves with the hot water.

"I mean it" was written on him, a statement that he thought it’d be easy to draw out of Enjolras red lips, but he’d been mistaken.

 

***

 

Combeferre found himself staring at the new member of Les Amis more than once. He hadn’t talked to him yet, but it seemed quite a character, always fighting back any argument Enjolras threw his way with an audacity he himself couldn’t master. He was honestly impressed, and couldn’t help say so to Enjolras one night.

"Are you kidding me? He’s infuriating, Combeferre."

"I think he could be of great help. Grantaire’s incredibly smart-"

"Pfft", said someone behind them.

Grantaire was standing a few steps away, a smirk playing on his lips. He had definitely listened to Combeferre’s words.

"I mean it." Combeferre said, with a timid smile.

Grantaire stop short, his mouth slightly open and his eyes open wide. Before any of them could say anything else, he ran out of the room.

 

***

 

This had to be a sick joke. How on earth could he talk to Combeferre now?! He couldn’t go to him and say “oh, hi, I think I’m your soulmate, you have to love me now”, especially when the soon to become a doctor had never paid attention to him. Or Grantaire to him, for that matter.

This wasn’t how it should be like. Weren’t they supposed to run to each other’s arms in slow motion? Why didn’t Combeferre say anything?! Maybe he felt embarrassed of him and wanted to hide it from Enjolras, he understood, he felt embarrassed of himself all the time.

Wait, hold on, what had  _he_  said in the first place? What if it had been something really stupid?

"Oh, my god!" he whimpered between his hands.

He was fucked up, he was so fucked up.

Pitifully, he didn’t have time to whine any more, since someone had knocked his door. He stood up from the spot he’d be laying on the floor and made his way over the front door, ready to kick whoever was on the other side. The thought died on his mind as soon as he saw said person.

"Hey," Combeferre greeted him, standing as tall as he was on the doorframe.

"Hey," Grantaire muttered.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." He step away to let him in, squeezing his brain for something he could say now. Should he apologize?

"Sorry I didn’t say anything before", Combeferre said instead. "I’d totally forgotten about it until Enjolras pointed out. I came over here right after."

"Enjolras pointed out?"

Combeferre smiled and tilted his head to the right, tapping a finger over the skin behind his left ear. Grantaire walked closer to take a look. There was writing a single word: “Pfft”.

"Did I really say that?" he asked.

"So you really are my soulmate." Combeferre said, smiling broadly.

"I- I don’t- I…"

"Can I see it?"

Grantaire blushed furiously for no reason, but lifted his shirt enough to bare his torso, the words carved on him more clearly than ever. Combeferre’s eyes looked at them with so much emotion, Grantaire feared he’d missed something. He reached his hand and a warm finger pressed over the letters, tracing every curve in a barely perceptible touch. Grantaire shuddered.

"Sorry."

"It’s okay…"

Combeferre was still smiling, his eyes so tender Grantaire felt the butterflies in his stomach dance in celebration. He couldn’t believe someone like Combeferre was looking at him with so much… love.

"May I?" he asked, and Grantaire nodded, not even sure what he was agreeing to.

Combeferre cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek softly and leaned in, givin Grantaire enough time to move away if he wanted to. He didn’t.

Grantaire thought, while kissing Combeferre, that he’d never been so glad the words on his ribs were there.

**Author's Note:**

> [Send me prompts please!](http://fanficlicious.tumblr.com/ask) :D


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